


Inn Talk

by ArtsyGirl



Series: A Piece of Me [5]
Category: Enderal (Video Game)
Genre: Drinking & Talking, F/M, Flirting, Gen, Literature, Riverville, Teleportation, The Drunken Bee, inn, joking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 17:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13275981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyGirl/pseuds/ArtsyGirl
Summary: Jespar told the Prophetess to meet him in the inn in Riverville.





	Inn Talk

Jespar handed me a teleporting scroll to Riverville, I’ve read about these, but never seen or used one, it is probably like using a normal spell scroll, only the effect is a little different. I hear that there are some runes placed in specific places that make teleportation possible, still seems like shifty business for me.  
  
The mercenary reads the scroll then circles his hand in the air and like magic he floats up and dematerializes in front of me. It doesn’t look pleasant. What if something goes wrong, a rune does not work properly and I’m not fully teleported?- Screw it, I really don't care and I don’t feel like walking either. I’ll teleport… when I get out of this house.  
  
My eyes are squeezed shut when the thing takes effect, there is slight tingling all over my body and when I open them I’m in Riverville, all of me, hands, legs, fingers, toes and head, my glorious head with it's lovely red curls. This wasn’t so bad.  
  
Now meet the merc in an inn. Strange name Drunken Bee, guess few inns have normal names. Then again what is normal and normality?  
  
I go inside. The place is nice and warm. A casual small town tavern, as expected. There is actually a difference between a small town inn and a big city inn; the smaller one is cozier and has a homelike feeling to it. The big city inns they may be more crowded, but he people there are a lot more judgy and unfriendly.   
  
I spot my savior from the distance. He said that he had some errands to run so I could take my time, damn fast errands then.  
  
The barstool next to him is empty, I take a seat.  
  
A friendly voice greets me “Well, well, well haven’t I seen this fair lady before? How about a sip of wine?”  
  
I’m really starting to like this mercenary. First he saves and offers help, then he gives me a teleportation scroll so I don’t have to walk and now he is offering me a drink. I have to remind myself not to go overboard with the alcohol after the first cup or later.  
  
“Sure.” The lady behind the bar counter, inn keeper Cora is her name, takes out a mug and pours some wine in it. I bring it to my lips and take a sip. This is some sweet stuff, tastes like summer berries. I joke “Keep treating me this nicely and I might follow you home.”  
  
He laughs “And what would we do there?”  
  
“I’m sure we can figure something out.” Am I hitting on him, gosh I am. Abort, abort, going to scare the person, who is helping me, away. I burry my face in my drink, is it getting warm in here?  
  
He says theatrically “My nomadic lifestyle be damned because I don’t have a home to call my own.”  
  
I try to change the subject “Hmm…yeah. So what is next with the crazed magister case?”  
  
“Now we go to Ark.” He takes a sip from his drink. “Are you ready for our little journey? Riverville’s Myrad is hurt so we have to go on foot.”  
  
I practically jump up “Let’s go… The sooner I get rid of this fever, the better.”  
  
“Splendid. I like your enthusiasm, but let’s wait until nightfall, though; that way it’s less likely we’ll run into an ambush on the pass.” Interesting, most people try to wait for the day to travel, but not him. I can assume that he isn’t afraid of the dark and the monsters lurking in it, experience, stupidity or sneakiness? I sit down again in slight disappointment, because I was ready to go, right now.  
  
“Before we go… You seemed more like the roguish- type to me. In battle, I mean”  
  
“Hmm…” What type am I? I like to use knives and daggers because they are light and small, I tend to go for more of a sneaky way of taking down my opponents, but I also like hand to hand combat does it go under the roguish type? “I believe so, yes.”  
  
“I knew it. I’m asking because I was on the market just now to stock up on provisions, and also got myself some new reading material. Here, I think you might find this useful.” He hands me a few books.  
  
I am surprised “What are these?”  
  
“The Arazelan in my bed: Sensual confessions of a vagabond lady; volume 1 and 2. You know for the lonely nights." He winks at me. "Jokes aside, these are learning books… From Arcanists, master fencers, depending on what you read. You know how to fight, but if you want to get better, you have to enjoy a reading of those once in a while.”  
  
“Thank you. I actually needed to sharpen my skills, long time no fight, you see.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
I finish my drink “So there are a few hours’ worth of time until it is dark so you can find me reading somewhere in this inn.”  
  
“You won’t be the only one. But before you are off to the land of fine literature then could I ask a few more questions?” He is a curious one isn’t he?  
  
“I see no harm in that. Shoot.”  
  
“You know when I got to this inn it occurred to me that I never asked your name, but when you sat down next to me then I forgot to ask, again. So my fair lady may I ask your name?” Strange I hadn’t noticed that either might be that too few people have used it in the past and I'm not used to it.  
  
“My fair lady works well enough, but since you asked then it is Susan. Very few people use it while referring or speaking to me.”  
  
“They don’t call you by your name? That is sad.”  
  
I shrug “Not really. It has been useful in the past.” A strand of my hair has come loose. I swipe it behind my ear. “You see if everyone has some different nickname or title or something else to call me then no one notices the real name and so the dots of who I am are harder to connect.”  
  
There is a tiny smirk on his face like he realized something “I take it you were not on the right side of the law.”  
  
I give him a little laugh “To be honest then yes and no. Altogether it was a big grey area.”  
  
“It seems that I didn’t rescue someone boring, you must have a lot of stories to tell.”  
  
“I do. Are you curious about anything else?”  
  
His face gets more serious and he looks into my eyes “When we first met then you put a lot of trust in me, why is that?”  
  
“It was all a result of logical reasoning. You saved me from the bandits, patched me up, didn’t rape or rob me blind so I figured why the heck not, there wasn't much to loose. Still isn't”  
  
All of the seriousness is gone from his face “You, my friend have low standards.”  
  
“That’s what she said.” I can’t believe I made ‘that’s what she said’ joke, it is terrible.  
  
But he actually laughs “That’s an awful joke.”  
  
“I realized it as soon as it was out of my mouth. Now I’ll be wayyy over there, where I can’t embarrass myself further.”


End file.
